I’m turning 49. I’m winding down my current graphic novel, preparing a new one, and working out a new strip. A Sunday strip. Because that makes so much sense in 2026. I’m going to use traditional tools for it also. Let’s lean into the antiquation.
On my desk are parts for a server I’m building out of an old SFF (small form factor) Lenovo business tower. A T480 ThinkPad, also by Lenovo, is sitting here awaiting some new RAM. I’ve already put Linux on it. It is nice, despite its age. Lovely, springy keyboard. I code a bit on it. And I’ll transcribe this blog post on it. I’m handwriting this post first. In cursive. With a fountain pen.
Next to the T480 sits my Pixel 6A that I do all my social media on. I removed social media from my main iPhone. If I post on my computer, I’m invisible. If I post from a phone, I am seen. I put Graphene OS on the phone instead of Android. An extra middle finger to my advertising profile.
Finally, I’m repairing an old Minolta XD11. Fixing the light seal. I need to get some special contact cement that is only sold in certain states. I don’t have the mental bandwidth right now to track it down.
When I was 19, I could spend an entire day watching Major League, twice, on HBO. And I could fill in the gaps between viewings with MTV. At night I would wander the city. All night. Driving. Burning through one cigarette after another. Wu-Tang blasting through the stereo. Dreaming about when my life was going to start as the glow from the city gave way and the stars would appear. Like the cornfields I was then racing through.
I told Siri to stop playing the new Nine Inch Noize on my Homepod Mini. Time to dial in a baseball game on the radio. Time to draw some comics.
Time to get some fucking pages done.
